The darkest day

At that point, there was a bang from the pilot’s seat. Both ambassadors looked down at where Sammie had just punched the console. “No fucking way that’s all we can do, captain.” She said, eyes flashing. “There’s gotta be something else.” Dustin made a note to figure out why she was so concerned about the catfolk later on - he’d have expected a plea like that from Naera; his gaze flickered over to the plant girl, who’s hands were gripping the edges of her console so hard they were nearly pure white. Trea’k was comforting her, at least - his focus returned to the pilot’s outburst and he nodded. “There is. Meli, fire up the weave drive, dual links. Sammie, I’ve had more practice than you at mapping new routes. Prd’r, I need you to send me your homeworld’s stellar coordinates.” Tapping the communicator even as the startled cat began to react, Dustin hailed every vessel in the system.

“Attention all hands. Lock on to the Solar Ascent’s drive signature. Someone is attacking the Yuran homeworld, and the fleet is going to respond. We’ll be flying uncharted, people, so follow my lead and don’t stray. Oh, and in case it needs saying, when we arrive we drop back in weapons hot.” A display in the corner of his vision lit up with green markers as the assembled scouts signalled their agreement, and he did his best to try and ignore the fact that he was violating the “keep yourselves alive first” task he’d given the fleet by doing this. But the Yuran were their friends; the latest news he’d gotten from home had said that humanities appreciation for the little cat folk had only grown since he’d left.

Sammie’s hands were already on the controls as his own weave-scan device slid into place. The familiar transition of light and dark played out - but this time, where he usually floated alone he was aware of a body next to him. The form was all outline, but despite himself he blushed; he’d not thought much on it before, but while the details were blurry their bodies were essentially naked in that strange space that represented weave flight. It made some kind of sense - clothes weren’t sentient so wouldn’t follow him in, but why then did their forms lack details such as nipples? That was a thought in the background however as he reached out to his pilot.

Sammie’s hand found his, and the two drifted closer. A thought sparked from her brain to his. “Captain? This is…” his answering one silenced her, a subtle whisper of the mind showing that while the situation was odd he didn’t object if she didn’t, and to focus on the mission. Their bodies in the weave apparently couldn’t blush, because no hint of change to her colour (nor his) showed as the pair did their best to keep their gazes above the neckline. Turning, Dustin focused on the task at hand; a dim ruby glinted in the distance as he narrowed down the threads.

Beside him, he could feel Sammie’s mind reeling at the sheer number of options they were scanning; with some mental effort he instinctively drew her closer, their thoughts merging as one to shield her-them from the overwhelming nature of the space they hung in. “I need you to focus on flying. Here, this one.” He thought-said, pushing a thread into their-her hands. She-they gripped it, her-their mind shifting and backing reluctantly from the embrace of his-their warmth. “Fly now, talk later. You’re the best pilot I’ve ever seen, you can do this.” he pushed at her, separating fully from the strangely intimate melding of minds.

With a gasp, his eyes blinked open. Meli hovered nearby, bucket in one hand which Dustin waved away, although he did take the bottle of water Emely offered. The vidscreens were off, showing only the route they were traveling and so he sat back in his chair, willing them to go faster. Emely hopped into his lap; he was going to complain, given the severity of the situation, but she placed one finger on his lips before kissing them lightly. “We all know how dual-weave controls work, sir. Meli told us a while back. Don’t stress about any… closeness you and the pilot might have shared. Besides, the way she got angry about the Yuran earned her some credit from me. The little cat people are super cute.”

Dustin coughed, and muttered “timing” as Emely hopped off his lap. Giving him a rather cheeky little curtsy before turning to her station, she replied “that’s why I said it. You need to be focused if we’re going into battle, and I didn’t want you worrying about what we’d all think.” Dustin was about to reject the suggestion out of hand, but then thought about it and nodded. “You’re right.” Taking a breath, he slapped his cheeks to help him focus and continued “Ok, back to business then. What’s our ETA?”

By rights, the flight from where they had met the Yuran ambassador to her home system should have taken weeks. With the route Dustin had found, they covered the intervening space in under seven hours. It was fast, far faster than any of them had expected. It was still, tragically, not fast enough for the Gvort. The fleet dropped back into normal space to find a system under siege. Neither the Gvort nor Yuran were warlike people, but they were fighting like tigers to protect a silvery-blue planet; even as the human fleet got it’s bearings fire bloomed from where a transport ship had thrown itself into the side of one of the hostile vessels. But beyond that…

Naera’s wail echoed across the bridge. Dustin’s fists balled in his seat. He was only dimly aware of Sammie and Yril’k talking rapidly, the pair working as one to throw the Solar Ascent into the middle of the action; white hot rage consumed him. Beyond the blue gem of a world there hung another - far larger; from descriptions Prd’r had shared, he knew that to be the original homeworld of her species, now left over near-exclusively to their Gvort symbiotes. And it was burning.

“All hands. All vessels. Lock targets and destroy those bastards!” He spat the words, cutting the comms before anyone could reply. “Sola, charge the main gun. And tell Rye if her modifications need any activating to do so.” The hostile vessels hung like voids in space, hulls obscuring the stars and the burning ships behind them. Dimly, he grew aware of Meli speaking, the scientist’s words seeming to come from far away. “That many vessels… this isn’t a hostile group like pirates or raiders. This is an invasion.”

Even as the Velca’s words reached him and **** a wave of calm determination to settle over his rage like ice on the slopes of a volcano, Sola announced the main gun ready to fire. He didn’t have to think, Sammie had already moved them into place. The great lance spat forth, punching through two of the closest of the enemy fleet. As the stricken vessels listed to the side, others began to break off their besieging of the Yuran’s second planet to deal with this sudden threat. Sammie hissed as she spotted something, and hit her own communicator. “All wings, launch! Intercept their fighters and stay alive.”

Tiny vessels flew from one of the larger alien ships; unlike the larger vessels they seemed more **** to regular weapons fire, but hitting them was hard - they were just too fast. Not quite fast enough though to out-pace the human fighters that now launched from Sola’s hold, but close, and the human fleet only had a handful of the light craft to the enemy’s dozens. “Target the carrier, Sammie. Main gun’s nearly ready to fire again” Dustin said, feeling the lurch as Sammie threw their craft into a steep banking turn to bring the weapon’s firing arc around to the new target.

Fleet ships were firing now, the smaller vessels having gotten within range; Dustin prayed that there were no monstrosity-sized ships here like there had been around Naera’s world… the thought made him look back over at his chef. Far from the emotional wreck she’d been the instant they’d seen the destruction, she now worked her terminal with a calculated calm efficiency that terrified him. There was no excess movement there, a minimal twitching of her fingers… despite her green skin and short stature, this seemed somehow to Dustin to be the first time she had looked truly alien. She was also controlling the ship’s point defence grid like a professional; how cookery provided the skills for that he’d have to figure out later, right now she was keeping Yril’k’s hands free to decimate their foe - and for that he was grateful.